Matters of Emotions
by Witherell
Summary: After the Final battle, all students of Harry's year are allowed to finish their studies and pass the NEWTs. It looks though, that certain unexpected feelings of Hermione Granger decided to distract her from her attention focussed on her study duties. And she has no choice than to succumb. Rated M for some reason...
1. Prologue

_**A/N:**__**As an author I feel obliged to expose the circumstances of the following story, here we go then:  
The plot begins after the Final battle with lord Voldemort, when all students of the last year are offered to re-enter the last year and finish their studies.  
I also dared to resurrect the character of Severus Snape, or precisely pretend that his death never happened. For that I sincerely apologize to our beloved JKR for my extreme ignorance... :)**_

**1. Prologue – A complaint**

_**Severus, I'm afraid we have to discuss a certain affair. Appear at my cabinet today at six o'clock, please.  
Minerva**_

_Dammit_, thought Snape. He had hoped that for the rest of the day nothing else would distract him from his glass of whiskey and looking deep into the flames of the fireplace in his room. And now he knew that he would even have to suffer a visit to the Headmistress; like it wasn't enough that he had had to undergo a long eight hours in a room overcrowded by students that weren't even capable of setting a fire under a cauldron!

With a quick glance he checked the pendulum clock placed in the corner of the room. Ten minutes till six. He should go then, to have these worthless irritancies off his hands forever!

Well… At least, for now.

"Take a seat, Severus," asked Professor McGonagall.

"Thank you, but I'd rather stay standing. I hope the reason due to which you've invited me, will be resolved quickly. Please, get to the point," replied Snape without a bit of emotion in his voice.

"Of course. As you surely know, I profoundly appreciate your teaching qualities and – yes, I frankly dare to say, that hardly any other professors, who can handle his subject so virtuously, could be found."

Snape sceptically bent his head to one side. _What is her point,_ he thought, when the Headmistress continued in her speech.

"However, Miss Granger as the Head girl made a complaint about your manners of communication."

_Miss Granger has made a complaint then,_he thought. The Headmistress took a breath as she wanted to make sure that Severus had nothing to add. Instead of a response he reacted by lifting his eyebrows.

"According to her words you expressed yourself very rudely a number of times about the stupidity of students from muggle families and her alone you accused of hiding her incapability of active conjuring under pages of grammar books."

The Headmistress paused again, she didn't receive an answer however and so decided to continue:

"Severus, I assure you that Miss Granger is one of the best students this school has ever had. Her talent of conjuring was evident already after a few hours in first year – neglecting whether talking about the theoretical or practical part. I assume then that commentaries of this type are not well sourced, and at the same time I must also point out that I won't accept complaints like this anymore. I hope this will be at my first and last admonishment to your work style."

"Indeed, Headmistress. You can rely in no more incidents like this," Severus affirmed her with a silvery tongue.

Minerva felt she'd made a mistake though. Actually she knew right after she'd given Hermione's name. Almost immediately she could see that rage in his eyes he'd been trying to cover by some kind of a grin, presumably supposed to be a glimpse of a smile. If she didn't do anything fast, Miss Granger would be in big trouble.

"Severus… Do you want to talk about something? Is anything on your mind?" she asked with caring face, hoping for his positive answer. For a tiny moment it seemed like seeing a spine of pain in his eyes, and then – no.

"Your care is gracious, Minerva, I assume though there is nothing I could share. If you don't have anything else, I would dare to leave," he used the same slippery voice like a while ago.

Headmistress sighed. "Indeed. I wish you good night then."

He inclined his head slightly and left. Professor McGonagall watched the closed door for a little longer, then with a deep breath settled deeper in her chair and placed the tips of her fingers together.

"Don't worry, Minerva. He'll calm down," a cheerful voice of Albus Dumbledore sounded next to her, smiling at her from his portrait,

"Severus' personality is a strong one, Minerva. I'm certain he can survive your critique."

Minerva sighed. "I'm afraid that momentarily Severus is not the one I'm worried about the most, Albus."


	2. Question of honor

**A/N: **_Thank you for the first reviews I got, it made my day that you liked the beginning. I hope you'll like the rest, too, and you'll leave me another comment. :) _  
_Also I would like to mention that my Beta reader dumped me (haha), so if anybody's interested to beta my stories, simply let me know, I'd be really grateful, 'cause looking for another one (especially a native speaker) is really, really tough work._**  
**

_Enjoy another chapter and please, r&r._

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**2. Question of honor**

_Damned beast! That evil-minded little bitch!_  
He'd never been so humiliated in the face of Headmistress!  
_What that little muggle silly cow even thinks!_  
And his teaching methods are_ none _of Headmistress' business!

Severus hurried, almost tore along through the corridor, completely steamed-up, his black coat billowing behind him like a torch of rage. He was so upset he didn't even register that he'd crashed into a poor student, just leaving prefect's bathroom. He just threw her away like she was an annoying bedbug and absolutely ignored her timid "Sorry," by which the girl wanted to mask her fear of possible punishment she'd thought was unavoidable.

Snape didn't have a reason to show his anger on the corridors of Hogwarts. If he needed to let his emotions appear, he kept it entirely for moments of solitude. He savagely flung the door open and it bashed into a wall with very loud _crack!_ sound. That loud noise almost immediately echoed from all walls in the room.  
He didn't care. As loudly as before he banged the door shut. Then he walked to his desk, grabbed first thing he'd found and furiously tossed it against the wall.  
Sound of the cracking glass echoed again. Even though he'd destroyed a jar with very valuable grindylows' skin essence, at the moment he was sincerely out of care. He leaned his hands against the table, hanged the head down and tried controlling the shaking caused by that unmanageable rage. Indeed, he wouldn't have acted like this if there had been standard conditions, but regarding Miss Granger…

That bitch really started to piss him off. After she'd managed to find the way how to destroy Voldemort, she started to act like a spoilt celebrity! Not mentioning her position of a despotic Gryffindor Head girl.

_You should stop thinking about her that much, Severus. That's you, who's still in the position of a leader here, not that muggle know-it-all,_ whispered him his inner voice.  
He grinned, appreciating himself.  
True.  
Miss Granger will experience the consequences of his today's self-control lost.

_Damn,_he thought when he'd realized how precious thing he'd destroyed just a while ago. The truth was that he'd sacrificed almost all his half-year wage for just that one jar!

"Reparo," he murmured and slightly waved his wand to the pile of potsherds lying on the floor. Once more he regretted that lost essence, but then he sat into his comfy chair and grinned viciously.

_That essence would be just one more nail in my patience coffin with Miss Granger,_ thought sourly and opened the Potions book for advanced.  
_Just let that know-it-all show herself._Well, which one could it be…

Hermione regretted her decision right after she'd left Headmistress' cabinet. Now she was comfortably seated in a soft sofa of Gryffindor's Common room and struck by her consciences. She shouldn't have felt guilty though… Indeed, within her Head girl duties comes the one that she should inform the authorities of the school and thereby protect the students that don't have possibility to show their opinion (no matter what their reason is – including fear). For now, however, she was quite afraid it was her who had pretty good grounds for being worried. Maybe Snape could be cool with her reminder and maybe – _please, Merlin_– he could see it as a notification of his mistakes.

_Hermione,_ she screamed at herself in mind_, don't be sentimental! Have you ever been in situation before, when Snape – Snape, that scoundrel – avoided any possibility to humiliate you in front of the others?  
_If she was supposed to be honest to herself, never…

But she wasn't afraid of him – not anymore! She can handle his critique as well as she had been forced to handle it for hundred times before. _But, after all, what if…_  
What if he makes her do something she wouldn't be capable of?

"Hermione, don't tell me you're still thinking about that Snape thing and whether you did or didn't do the right thing?" moaned Ron behind her back with his mouth full of food; he stuffed himself again.

"Naturally, Ronald. Not everybody takes his actions just as light-heartedly as you do, but your stomach full first. Are you taking advantage of those poor elves again?" she gave critical look to a chicken stick in his right hand and a bottle of Butterbeer in the other one.

"Oh come on!" protested Ron, "I might be greedy-guts, but I'm not stupid and not even a flint! Yeah, I admit using our elves from time to time to bring me something, that's true, but it's still better than let parts of clothes for them in your dirty dishes like you did! And usually _I_properly think about what I want to do, so I don't have to think about it later," he sputtered his last mouthful of chicken in her way.

Hermione shook herself with disgust and then grinned: "Oh, please, and when was the last time you've ever thought about your behavior?"

"Like…" A reflex of anguish went through Ron's face. "Like when we were going out together."

"Ron, I-" she didn't want to open this topic again and again.

"I know, I know. You don't want to return back to our past spent together, all right. But, for God's sake, I beg you, Hermione, let that Snape thing get out of your mind, finally!"

"That's very easily said by _you_, however mean and rude he's to you, he doesn't pick on you for your intelligence, Ronald."

Ron moaned loudly. "For our poor Merlin's beard, Hermione! You did handle Voldemort just a while ago, therefore some stupid oily professor can't put you off so easily!"

Hermione scowled.  
_Ron's actually right, Hermione. Don't unnecessarily underestimate yourself_, whispered the inner voice in her mind.  
_But don't even underestimate Snape,_suddenly made himself heard another one.

Gosh! If that itchy feel coming from her inside and caused by her bad feeling about him was perceptible from outside, she would be totally scratched, she thought to herself.

She checked her watch – it showed half past eleven. She should go to sleep then. Even if she probably doesn't sleep much, at least she should try. Why only the first lesson tomorrow had to be two hours of Potions…


	3. The Nightlight

_**A/N:** Thank you for your reviews! There can't be better reward than to hear from your readers (colleagues writers, you'll agree, right? ;)) Enjoy another chapter and, please, keep R&R!  
BTW, I still didn't find any beta, that means the position is still availiable if anybody's interested. ;)  
Enjoy!_

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**3. The Nightlight**

Next morning Hermione woke up, feeling even weider than yesterday.  
_Merlin,_ she thought, _when is this going to end?_She was completely fed up with those never ending fights with professors. Or… more specifically, one of them.

Lavender with Parvati were still sleeping tight when Hermione put on her bathrobe in Gryffindor colors (of course) and just in her slippers left the Common room and headed to the Prefect's bathroom.

"Viola odorata," she whispered to the stone gargoyle and it jumped aside. As usually, the room she walked in was evoking the sense of pleasure and luxe caused especially by grand marble walls, and when she took breath, she could smell the scent of bath foam. Prefect's bathroom was almost as big as whole Common room with all the dormitories together, the bath-tub set into the ground, its proportions almost as a smaller pool.

Absentmindedly she turned on one tap with hot water and one called Nightlight and finally sank herself into the water with relief.  
She closed her eyes, tired from being awake all night (she didn't sleep than for about three hours!) and thought to herself that she'd been as nervous as a freshman before her first lesson. And – she smiled – the fact was that she had actually had almost half of the last year behind her, neglecting the fact that she'd made her studies in Hogwarts one year longer than it usually was according to the regulations. She doubted that any "normal" student would accept a possibility like that. She, however, loved Hogwarts as well as Harry did and – she hesitated for a while – well, Ron probably not so much like them, but certainly he loved it here, too. Who wouldn't, actually. Hermione naturally took Hogwarts as her second home.

_Well, maybe it's my only home now,_she thought painfully, when a picture of her parents appeared in her mind. Her loving parents, whom she'd been forced to change their memory about a year and half ago, erase all thoughts of their beloved daughter from their minds and send them to Australia, for their own safety.

She wiped away a tear running from under her closed eyelids and sighed. Maybe there will be a possibility to find them again… Soon.  
She opened her eyes, got out of the tube and covered herself with the bathrobe again. She put her hair into a towel which she'd seen lying next to the bath before, slipped into her slippers and took her way back to the Gryffindor's Common room.

Parvati and Lavender hadn't been in the room anymore. _They're probably in one of the bathrooms, competing which one can put more make-up on her face,_ Hermione smirked viciously.

Suddenly she felt how weak and tired she was. She looked at the watch. Seven o'clock sharp. It meant that she'd spent for about two hours in the bathroom, but it didn't matter. Who, besides her, would go there so soon?  
One more hour remained until breakfast.

_I'll be dressed up in five minutes and regarding my hair, I won't bother with them,_she sighed, thinking about her curly mane which had gotten even more volume because of the impact of hot water. She didn't mind. With her bathrobe still on she laid on the bed and before any thought could jump into her head, she fell asleep.

She opened her eyes and suddenly couldn't remember what was going on. There were many voices around, coming from the other dormitories and also from the Common room. When she controlled her watch again, a shock attacked her. It was eight twenty.

"God!" she cried, "that means that the first class begins in ten minutes! Potions!"  
She jumped in hurry, tightened her hair into a messy, tangled bun at first and then got dressed in few seconds. She was well aware that the way to the dungeons was pretty long and so she made herself run. She got through the crowd of freshmen, ran into few students and one minute till half past eight she stood in front of the classroom.

"Hermione, where the hell have you been? We were worried," Harry went off sharply.

"Well, good morning to you, too, Harry," she returned him bitterly.

"Oh, well… sorry," Harry apologized embarrassedly. "You know, me and Ron, we were wondering why you haven't arrived to breakfast so we brought you a piece of toast."

"Thank you," Hermione grabbed the toast and hungrily took a bite. She wasn't used to have big breakfast, but when she didn't have anything, her stomach was usually loudly protesting for the rest of the morning.

"Miss Granger, nearly an hour and half for breakfast was not sufficient for you, or there was so little food on the Gryffindor table?"

_Oh blimey_, she thought to herself, _here we go._The tickle of his breath on her neck made her turn slowly and suddenly she realized that she'd been standing for about five inches from the feared professor.

* * *

Severus enjoyed Hermione's puzzlement right to the last straw. Besides, he did not mind standing so close to her at all. At least he had the possibility to puzzle out the clever mechanism of a pin she made that adorable little bun with and -

Suddenly he realized what he'd been thinking about. He took a deep breath to get enough time to familiarize with the situation. A squad of Slytherins with Malfoy in lead, of course, were smirking, apparently having fun of the actual situation; the paralyzed rest of class expecting breathlessly what was going on next.

The smell, coming from Hermione's hair, was the next thing Severus had decided to use for her even bigger humiliation.  
"Miss Granger, you seem kind of off your color today, don't you? And that smell, hm… Nightlight, I'd say. Am I right?" he sneered derisively.  
Hermione got even redder in her face.  
He lashed his hand lazily to open the door of the classroom and walked into it as the first one. "A potion called conveniently the Nightlight. What am I talking about? Granger," he didn't even have to turn. He was certain that Hermione's hand was being pinned towards the ceiling.

"Nightlight is a synonym for a very strong hypnotic, sir," she answered him almost arrogantly. He curiously turned her way. She was sitting uprightly behind her desk, her chin warningly raised up.

_Look what we have here, fully confident again._"Good. It's today's task for everybody except…" he stopped in front of Hermione, "you. Veritaserum. You know what it is?" he asked and watched her nod her head lightly. "Great. The whole potion takes about a month to brew, the base, however, should be prepared in an hour by somebody like you. That's your today's task. You can persuade everybody here about your underestimated qualities," he added waspishly. "Everybody let's get to work," he turned around and with satisfaction watched her bewildered reaction.

He spent the following hour wandering around class, observing his working students. Potter and Weasley were collaborating again, of course, but without Granger's help their work looked like liquid cement. Malfoy was almost done, but his potion had almost ruby color, considerably different from the sky blue the finished potion was supposed to get_. He certainly forgot to stir it clockwise,_Severus thought. The potion of Pansy Parkinson was spreading an unbearably bad odor all around the room. That was one of those rare moments, when Severus regretted not having windows in his classroom.

Then he shifted his attention back to Miss Granger. She was all red, out of her breath and had little drops of sweat on her forehead, caused probably by steam coming from her cauldron. A disobedient string of hair had slipped from the pin and she put it behind her ear by one careless motion. Severus felt disgusted by what he had considered necessary to observe. Regarding her potion, Snape had to admit – very unwillingly though – that she'd been handling it well. The substance had a light pink color now; two more stirs counter-clockwise were the last step to get the requested liquid – base of the true-telling potion.

!"The end," Snape announced right at the moment when Hermione corked a little bottle with her sample. She knew he was going to be discontent, because her work had been successful. She waited until the rest of the class gave off their pieces to him, the only people resting there were Ron with Harry now, waiting for her. She stood up and put her sample in front of Snape. With obvious disgust in his face he scanned her and the vial, and his eyes reflected his bitterness.

"You succeeded, Miss Granger. You can leave now."


	4. The Flame

_**A/N: **I must thank to my beloved friend Olga for the unexpected acceptance of my demand and becoming my Beta reader. If I loved you before, I adore you now, you can trust that. ;)_  
_Thanks, Olí!_

As for you, my readers, please, R&R, it'll make my day. :) Thanks!

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**4. The Flame**

In spite of Hermione's triumphant grin on her face while leaving the class, the following lesson of Potions seemed to become one big tragedy again.  
Hermione was fluttering around her cauldron, messy hair disobediently curled around all of her face, wetted by fumes coming from the cauldron, and she was promising quick death to anybody who'd try to talk to her.

Snape had given her an individual task again – only now he assigned her to prepare such a difficult potion that even an advanced wizard would boil it at least three hours – and she was supposed to make it within two?!  
Ingredients were messing up under her sweaty hands, the cauldron was already about to boil and she hadn't added Lacewing flies' lymph yet. She busily started to crush the ingredient on the wooden plate, but she hadn't realized that it was necessary to use a knife with a wider blade. The lymph squirted into all sides and ironically the biggest amount of that smelling mucus hit Hermione into the face.

"Damn," she shrieked out, but angrily continued working. She was pretty aware that her attempt was pointless, but her pride didn't allow her to stop.

"Hermione, could you-" Harry tried to get an advice. He desperately needed her help about what to do with his potion, which looked pretty much similar to the Polyjuice potion by its consistence, completely opposite to the Forgetfulness potion, which was supposed to have bright orange colour. However, he wasn't allowed to finish his question since his potion started to frizz and made an enormous red burn-mark on his neck.

"Harry please," barked Hermione and if she had some time to spare, she would allow herself a derisive kind of snort. What was the Forgetfulness potion in comparison to the Soothing potion – frequently used in Mediwizardry, which, when prepared badly, could easily cause death?

She hated Snape, she hated Harry for interrupting her in such a stupid time, and most of all she hated this damned class right now, especially when her cauldron started to shake out of control as a reaction to the strong flame Hermione had forgotten to lower after reaching the boiling-point.

* * *

Severus was calmly standing leaned against his class desk, observing his student's work as he usually did. They were ordered to do silly, practically more than absurd job that most of them should be done with even before passing the established amount of time.

Unlike Granger. He stopped his eyes just on her and observed her bird-witted work. Soothing draught, true, a little big bite to swallow during two hours of work.  
The only thing he could add in her favour was the orderliness of her work – first the preparation of most needed ingredients, then mixing them together. Work style hardly distinguishable from all the methods recommended in various types of potion guide-books.

However, the more the character of the potion changed, the more chaotic her behaviour became, until she got to the point with Lacewing flies. He watched her disgusted face and grotesque grimace she wasn't able to cover right when the mucus spurted.

_This time you really overdid yourself!_  
Not at all!  
_Soothing potion is really not a piece of cake!_  
She deserves it.  
_She hasn't done anything so evil though._  
I hate her.  
_Hate her or want to hate her?_  
Is there a difference after all?  
_Pretended hatred usually hides another feeling…  
_He felt his face harden and a strong wave of disgust pointed against his own mind flushed through his body. What the hell was his brain even considering?! Him, HIM, hiding any kind of a thing for Granger?  
A derisive sneer went across his face; he'd never believe that such a sentimental thought could ever go right through his mind.

He didn't notice though that he'd been staring at her for almost an hour, practically mesmerized by watching her evasive gaze and gawky work that her soft, thin fingers were performing.

The lethargy he'd gotten himself into, however, left him right when the cauldron's contents flared up and suddenly whole liquid was in deep blue flame. This was the moment he'd been waiting for – a moment of his triumph!  
"Miss Granger, are you so unbelievably insecure or have you just been pretending your stupidity when you haven't noticed that the flame under your cauldron was too big?"  
YES! The tension in his body eased off all of a sudden.  
He waved his wand against the fire that was already slowly pouring out of the cauldron and on Hermione's desk. Suddenly it was gone.  
Hermione's face colour slowly changed from slightly pink to completely pale, almost green, and after his commentary she went as red as a beetroot.

"How could you even try to get to the higher level of witchcraft when you're not capable of mixing even that simple Soothing potion! I'm taking five points from Griffyndor for your fecklessness."

Hermione raised her head and fixed her hazel eyes on him. Her gaze was full of ice and fire at the same time, filled by burning and freezing hatred.  
"I'm pretty sure that if you had given me a realizable task, I could have made it without any problem, professor," she gritted through her teeth and especially did her best to show him how much she had actually hated him only by the tone of her voice.

Severus stood like rooted to the spot. Did she really make a stand against him right now? That… He hadn't expected that! In any case he tried to keep cool, at least externally.  
"I'm afraid that there are other ones to consider my teaching qualities, _Miss_," he smirked derisively and tried to estimate her reaction in advance. Imagining anything he could expect, but the thing Hermione actually _did_he wouldn't have guessed at all.

She slowly rose from her chair, narrowed up and placed her hands on the table in front of her. "Then I reckon they should rethink their opinions related to your qualities, professor!"

A single gasp for breath could be heard from somewhere back in the classroom. Severus's heart turned to water as he almost lost his ability of rational thinking.  
"If you have problems controlling your anger, Miss Granger, maybe an eighty inch essay about your mistakes in this class could help you. As for the next time, kindly, consider letting your unasked commentaries related to my person for yourself."  
_Well done, really, Severus, you couldn't express yourself more sensitively._

"So what, are you expecting me to praise you?!" barked Hermione, whose patience was now definitely gone. This commentary brought Severus back to his rational reality.

"Hermione, you shouldn't have-" reacted Harry, who wanted to cut this pointless fight earlier than Hermione could have a chance to get herself into real trouble.

"Kindly, shut up, Potter. I can vindicate myself on my own," Snape cut him off. "Regarding you, Miss Granger," he almost whispered with voice so freezing that it caused shivers going through spines of everyone in the classroom, "I strongly recommend _you_ to rethink your ways of speaking to a professor. Your today's performance was something that would be hardly tolerated by any of the other professors, including me. Therefore," he continued, his gaze still fixed on Hermione's defiant eyes, "another twenty points are taken from Gryffindor for your monstrous arrogance, and you'll bring me that essay right tomorrow morning. And now, Miss Granger," he emphasized her name, "raise yourself and get out of my class right before I change my mind and write an official complaint to the Headmistress!"  
The last few words were almost shouted, if that was something he was possibly capable of.

Hermione took her book of potions under her arm, got around the table and stood right before Snape. "Have a nice day, professor," she snapped ironically and went out of the classroom with all the confidence she had.

"Don't you have anything to do?" he burst out on the rest of the students, who scattered behind their desks like on command.

_Stupid muggle hellcat! She got me again,_ Severus thought to himself, containing his usual place in front of his desk.


	5. Craziness

_**A/N: **Hi! Yeah, I'm sorry I haven't updated sooner, but I believe you still remember my story (if not, read again and don't forget to review... ;D ) Thank you for your amazing reviews under the previous chapter, they all inspired me so much! Keep r&r and enjoy the reading!_

For beta-read thanks to calypsopotter18!

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_**5. Craziness**__**  
**_  
"You've gone completely mad, Hermione!"  
She'd been sitting in Common room with Harry and Ron and they were going through today's "affair", indeed. Her previous scene with Potion's professor was a secret, so, naturally, within first break practically whole school knew.

"Hermione, you can't stay awake all night just because of an essay," Harry harangued her, "even the biggest fool wouldn't certainly do that, right, Ron?" he emphasized and elbowed Ron, trying to find some support.

"Harry's right, 'Mione. In the morning you weren't afraid of yelling at Snape and now you're worried what he'd do to you because of a stupid essay? It's almost midnight, and you've only signed your parchment so far," yawned Ron. As usually, he hadn't noticed the change of Hermione's behaviour, but Harry felt something wasn't alright. It wasn't quite usual to see Hermione neither having problems to write an essay nor finding the guts to stand against a teacher inside of her.  
"Hermione… is there something me and Ron should know about?" he asked carefully.

She irritatedly raised her head. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, you know, you've been acting… differently last couple of days."  
Hermione stood up so fast, that all of her parchments fell from her lap on the floor.

"You know what? If there's something about my behaviour you don't like, I don't have any reason to stay here!" She furiously grabbed all her stuff and, feeling offended, she left the room.  
Harry exasperatedly watched her leaving. "Don't you think she seems to be kind of weird recently?"  
Ron just shrugged his shoulders.

* * *

Hermione felt a little guilty. First she hadn't manage to stay cool on Potions and had yelled at Snape, and now she treated Ron and Harry badly.  
_Is Harry right and something's really going on with me? Why don't I feel it though?_  
Sufficient enough was the realization how long it'd taken her to decide whether it was right or wrong to go off Snape. She had made her decision at last. It wasn't. And that was the reason why she wanted to write the best essay she could possibly manage. But… why was it suddenly such a problem? She'd been sitting above that piece of parchment for who knows how long, and still no sight of some convenient formulation. _If Snape at least… Snape!_  
First thought of him made Hermione's mind compose the words into sentences just out of blue. She had no idea how that was possible, but she began writing so quickly her hand was shaking and tried to keep the imagination of her detested professor in her mind.

After almost an hour her parchment was thickset by her small handwriting, whereas during re-reading she didn't find any trouble with what she was supposed to explain. With rising satisfaction she leant her head on her arm and wanted to start reading again, but her eyelids were unbearably heavy.  
She fell asleep even before reading first two words.

In the morning she woke up quite early. She had no idea how she'd actually gotten into bed. _Probably the house-elves, _she thought with a sting of guilt.  
_Oh no,_she sighed, that disgusting feeling in her stomach, eating her alive, was here again. The same one she'd had before first hour of Potions. She lay in her bed for a bit longer, when a splintery noise came from the Common room and somebody started to yell. A while later she could hear several pairs of feet leaving dormitories. The yelling and clanking kept going.

She was a Head girl, gosh! She had to stop that. Hermione sighed while getting her robe on – it seemed like too much ado for Saturday morning.  
"What is going-" she shrieked out when a glass statuette flew right above her head the instant she entered the Common room. Ron with Lavender stood in the middle of the room and she seemed very upset, holding her wand and attacking Ron by everything that came under her hands. Ron was obviously like rooted to the ground and had a lot of problems getting out of the way of the flying objects. The rest of Gryffindor house was standing around them, apparently enjoying their "lover's fight".

Hermione rolled her eyes up and found Harry's gaze. They looked at each other, in both faces mirrored the same sentiments – hadn't Ron had enough yet in their sixth year?!

"Lavender-" Hermione began soothingly while she was approaching, step by step, hands outstretched in front of her in defensive gesture, "Lavender, please, calm down," she tried to use the most calming tone of voice, when she spotted that Lavender was ready to toss something again – and apparently she didn't mind who would be hit.  
"The last I wanna do is to calm down!" Lavender shouted again and made Hermione skip. "In addition, you're the last one that should be melting me. I feel the same admiration to hit you as I feel for him!" she pointed at Ron in accusing gesture.

Hermione stopped in the middle of her move. "What?" she looked at Lavender with doubtful look, "you probably got mad." In a crack her morning mood was even worse.  
Lavender, however, just scornfully laughed. "Me? Ask that… that never-do-well, why in one romantic moment he titled me Hermione," she almost spit out in the end.

Hermione closed her eyes and a quiet moan came from her mouth. He couldn't have done that…  
She stealthily looked at him; his face was pretty much telling the story about his impersonation of a guilt. But Lavender understood both of their faces completely inside out. "So?" she spitted out. Hermione knew she had to do something.  
"Lavender, there's nothing between me and Ron!" She looked so desperate that the rest of Gryffindors felt sorry for her.

Lavender still wasn't satisfied though. "Nice try, Granger. But who would buy that? I always thought you were quite poker-faced but I never thought that you show up like such a slut!"  
All of sudden the room was covered in total silence. Everybody was familiar with Lavender's scenes of jealousy but this time she really strained a point.

Ironically the first one who recovered from the shock was Hermione. She made a step to Lavender, then she raised her hand and gave her such a great slap that surprised Lavender staggered and on her face immediately appeared well-defined reddening spot.

"Miss Granger, what is _that_supposed to mean?" suddenly a voice of professor McGonagall sounded from portal. Despite her function of Headmistress she kept her position of the Gryffindor's house Headmistress as well.

"Professor, I…I…"

"Miss Granger, what I just saw here was sufficient enough to me. I'm astonished by the brutality of your behaviour. Therefore I expect you on Monday evening in my cabinet, where you'll serve your punishment," she looked at her with glance as cold as death.  
Lavender was victoriously grinning, but her smile faded the instant when Ron made a stand.

"I disagree," he walked through the Common room and stood in front of surprised Headmistress. "All that happened here is actually my fault. I don't want Hermione to be punished unfairly, that's why I'm taking her punishment on myself," he stated so confidently that he definitely had to surprise even himself. A little chatter went through the room again. Was Weasley seriously just protecting his ex-girlfriend?  
Professor looked completely confused. "Well… Okay, Mister Weasley. In that case you're under the same conditions as I stated for Miss Granger a while ago." Then she looked around the room. "You all should be in hurry. Breakfast begins in less than half an hour." Then, with all her dignity, she walked out of the room.

Hermione suddenly remembered the essay. Damn! Snape was supposed to have it yet before breakfast! She ran towards her dormitory.

"Hermione, wait-" Harry wanted to stop her for a while, but she really hurried. "Not now, Harry," she busily called over her shoulder.

Five minutes later she ran out of the Common room, towards the dungeons hiding one unfavourable professor. She wasn't exactly enthusiastic, indeed – who would be…  
When she stopped in front of his cabinet door, her heart began to thump like a sledge-hummer. She had no idea how he could act after their last… well, let's say altercation.

She took a deep breath and with all the courage she had knocked on the door…


	6. Displeasing escape of information

_**A/N: **Thanks to calypsopotter18 for her amazing beta-reading work. As for you, my readers, enjoy the chapter ;)_

* * *

_**6. Displeasing escape of information**_

Severus Snape slept quite restlessly. As for the fact that usually he was dreaming really occasionally, he couldn't find out why he'd been dreaming about Granger all night! It was definitely the worst nightmares for him! Like it wasn't enough during the classes – except and not except the previous lesson in the same time.

He couldn't deny she'd surprised him. He'd never realized her dynamic as much as yesterday – Merlin, how could he even think that she was cold and passionless?  
Only unwillingly he admitted that she was one of a small amount of students, who, whatever tiny moment it was, had been successful at his disarming. And very unwillingly he also had to accept a fact that Miss Granger quite excelled, much higher than the others.

_Severus,_ he shouted at himself, _aren't you going to think about that stupid girl for an unnecessarily long time, all day long, are you?!_  
Actually, he really did surprise himself by this kind of thoughts. Gods, hopefully he hadn't started to soften, had he? That would be the last drop…  
After a short shower he seated himself into a comfy armchair in his office, in front of never-extinct fireplace. He was used to begin each and every morning with the same routine – a shower and then a cup of black coffee right before having to leave for breakfast. Dumbledore's sentimental habit of beginning the day by common breakfast was now over taken by Minerva – and Severus genuinely hated her for that. Naturally, he appreciated her witchcraft qualities, but not that disgusting adherence to old habits. What could he do, she was Gryffindor for some reason, wasn't she…  
However, for many times he'd said to himself that he would give a fortune for quiet, lonely morning right before he would be bound to hand out many detentions again – but, honestly, that was probably the thing he liked the most about teaching.

_Should I have given detention also to Miss Granger?_  
Damn it! That little Gryffindor again! He couldn't help himself. She sneaked into his thoughts all by herself! She didn't even let him sleep well.

_She was so adorable in those dreams…  
_It was disgusting!  
_And that's why you felt the needing to save her._  
I just didn't want to be the witness of another nightmare of mine.  
_And that's why you pressed her so tightly to you…  
_Rubbish! I felt the urgency of throwing her away!  
_You're lying! She felt adorable even to you._  
That dream… just her and him at some mystic place, in the middle of the forest. She was smiling and dancing – in these dress from her fourth year, even though Severus was pretty sure she was quite… hem… let's say much more mature since then. The centaurs wanted to kidnap her so he raised her into his arms and ran away. Just away. He felt her scent, the strings of her hair were fluttering around his face…

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by knocking on the door. Who, the hell, could want something so early in the morning! He lazily turned his armchair towards the door. "Come in." Oh dear, how big was his surprise when SHE appeared inside!

"Good morning, professor," she tried to find some certainty in her voice, but there were still hints of nervousness though. He just nodded to answer her greeting and attentively scanned her look. She looked… sweetly. Her spread hair were loosely falling down on her shoulders, there was an unsure emotion on her face and a piece of parchment in her hands.  
"I brought you that essay you wanted," she finally looked into his eyes and he suddenly felt strong vibrations of magic, surrounding his whole body. She didn't turn her face away though – she had to feel that, too!

He nodded his head towards his desk and she understood. She put the parchment on the desk and waited to see what was going to come next.  
In Severus's mind was meanwhile born bad, untruthful plan no Slytherin would be ashamed of.  
_You can't do that!_  
Oh yeah…  
_That's so nasty!  
_It won't hurt her, after all.  
_Just a second ago you were prepared to throw up just from thoughts about her._  
I still have that feeling!  
_Than why…?_  
I just want to find out her reaction…  
He rose up and walked towards his desk, now he was standing just so close to almost feel her breath. He inhaled to smell her scent. Merlin… Nightlight, again. He would feel that smell forever.

He leaned for the paper so close around her that their faces were in one moment in the very close distance from each other. She took a step aside. By force of his mind Severus ripped his examining look from her hazel eyes, widened with panic and startle, and began to read.

"Professor?"  
He raised his head, a little surprised that she'd still been standing there.  
"I wanted to apologize – for my behavior yesterday."

He looked at her, slightly startled. Granger apologizing to him?! "All right," he muttered, "you may go now."  
He lowered his eyes again to the parchment and then just heard quiet slam of the door. He passed the desk, sat down and put his head into his hands.

For Merlin's sake… what that girl had done with him!

* * *

When Hermione opened the door, she felt frozen by the deep look professor Snape gave her. The most surprising for her was the fact that he hadn't been sitting behind his desk but in front of the fireplace instead.  
_Of course, stupid__,_ she thought. _Do you really think that during his free days he's full of enthusiasm to spend his time with senseless student's essays? Just imagine reading Ron's or Harry's essays again and again._  
"Good morning, professor." She almost didn't recognize her voice. As a response was just a slight nod of his head and that deep look didn't stop. Gosh, did he see right into her stomach!  
"I brought you that essay you wanted," she tried to sound as strongly as she could and finally found all her bravery to look into his eyes. Suddenly there was a strong flash of magic going through all her body. Her heart started to run, but she made herself stay icy cool (at least from the outside) and not to pull her gaze away. She put the essay on the table and watched as professor got up and by slow, sensuous pace he walked to her close proximity.

_You've never noticed how sensual walk he has…_  
WHAT?!  
Her own flow of thoughts surprised her. God, this _slime_ should have been sensual? No way! However, when he reached for the piece of parchment with her essay on, he gave her look so deep she got a feeling she would drown herself in his eyes.  
She couldn't stand it anymore, she backed instinctively, still watching these dark depths of professor's gaze. When he got to read, she took all her nerve to apologize.  
_Why are you apologizing?  
_I had to do that.  
_Did you want to scream at him? You did. So you shouldn't have apologized__._  
I can't fight him all the time until the end of the year!

"All right," he muttered, by what he put her out of concentration. "You may go now."  
That almost whispered words influenced shivers going through all her spine. If he wanted, she'd probably stay right now… Nevertheless, he said "you may go." So she quietly passed the door and softly closed them behind herself.

A thought at the unknown cause followed her all her way to the Great hall. She felt unsure; she'd never felt anything like that before.  
_I'll find something about it later in the library._  
She was glad that she had that essay thing out of her hands. Even now she actually grinned to herself – Snape and her? What an absurd imagination!  
That disastrous feeling inside of her, however, didn't want to leave. Her instincts would never betray her, she anticipated that something was going on – and she wasn't wrong any this time.  
Thousand of eyes turned at her at the moment she'd walked into the Great hall. _Oh no,_ she sighed, when she saw a fresh print of the Daily Prophet lying in front of them. During these days she got pretty used to articles about her, Harry and Ron, sorting out unusually often and there were days when one word in them wasn't true – but until now the students had never reacted by such a bewildered silence.  
Hermione found Harry and Ron angrily sitting over their plates and Harry threw the newspaper in front of her at the moment she took a seat next to them.

"Oh no!" Hermione's face immediately reddened. The title announced: LOVE BETWEEN CLOSE FRIENDS OF HARRY POTTER?

"How is it possible, Hermione?" asked Harry quietly. "I mean, how is possible that there's a tiny conflict at Hogwarts castle and within half an hour it appears on front pages of the newspaper just because it's we who appears there?"

Hermione stiffened. "Are you suggesting an information escape, Harry?" she asked carefully.

" I don't want to suggest anything, but something starts to stink here, Mione," he looked at her with harsh gaze in his face.

Hermione put her head into her palms. "Merlin, why," she whined, "why today?" In that moment she felt somebody watching her and that gaze was so burning that the referred had to see right through her. There was only one person that could send this kind of gaze.  
She shyly turned her head towards the Head table, hoping that she wouldn't see what she knew in advance. Her look entwined with the potions master's coal black eyes.

Severus Snape burned her off by his look, holding the morning print of today's newspaper in his hand.


	7. A bug

_**A/N: **Hey guys! FINALLY another chapter there, I'm so busy and feel so tired right now! If you want to inspire me a bit, leave me a comment how you like it, ok? It might help to make me work faster... :)_

_So, please, please, please, R&R, It woud make my day! :)_  
_Also, thanks very much to my beta Calypsopotter18!_ _You're amazing!_

* * *

_**7. A bug**_

That article didn't surprise him at all. As well he wasn't surprised by the sentimentality of the text, in which he recognized Rita Skeeter's authentic style.  
Disgusting goose!  
From the very moment that the Prophet stopped being under control of the Deatheaters, it increased the appearance of sentimental blobs, usually with made-up or not proper information – from serious newspapers it happened to become a tabloid, which was rather unfortunate.

But... what if this was an occasional truth… He felt a wave of jealousy going through his body so strong that he had to wonder. Where was his notorious self-control?! His gaze met hers. He burned her by his eyes, focused on getting to her mind, but without any chance. Before he could even take a breath, she ran away from the hall.  
_Your look was probably too hard, I guess,_ an unpleasant voice in his head told him.  
_Shit, Severus!_ he shouted at himself and didn't even notice that he clenched his palms into fists. _You're Snape! Supposed to have hardly any feelings! Jealousy?! Ha! What a disgusting imagination…_

His inner self was right. He _was_ Snape. The Potions Professor, well-known for his iron self-control and icy cold mind. And any dement night full of damn stupid dreams won't break his self-consciousness.  
With his stone face mask fully on again and cold in his eyes so freezing, that possibly even a student ten meters away could freeze to death, he raised from the table and graciously left the hall. There were enough terrible essays to mark in his cabinet.  
In mind he didn't doubt that the first mark would be T.

* * *

"So! You will sit down here right now and explain me, what _the hell_ should that morning performance mean!"  
It was ten o'clock in the morning and Hermione Granger was practically at the end of her powers. Morning fight with Lavender, an encounter with Snape and almost perfectly strict article in the newspaper had exhausted her so much that she herself didn't understand where the energy to shout at Ron from the bottom of her lungs came from. But her reason was damn good, when considered that it was him, who'd been responsible for two thirds of her troubles. But HE was curling on the red sofa right now and from the entire world he wished to be invisible the most.  
And indeed, near to them was seated nobody else than Harry Potter, quietly having fun of Ron's anti-heroism and in the same time surprised by Hermione's look of dominance, dangerously standing in front of the sofa, the look on her face unusually similar to a blast-ended skrewt.  
The only Harry's luck was that he didn't know how Hermione felt that instance.

How? She felt absolutely terrible. Her self-control was damaged and even more suppressed by the fact that Ron didn't even _peep_ all the time.  
"Will you finally spit it out?!" she barked at him sharply.

"I…" He chewed his words like he was pulling his teeth. "Um… well… we've just… we were sitting on the sofa, making out and-"

"Leave the details," she growled deeply.

"As you wish," he suddenly jumped of the sofa, "if you really want to know, she was sitting backwards to me and these curls of hers suddenly reminded me you; I just probably wished it was true…"  
Sharpness of his voice was slowly dropping down, until there was only despair left. "Hermione," he began to talk again and when he looked at her by his sparkling eyes, she felt tear dripping from her own eye. "Hermione, please… Please, let's have a talk. I need… I have to know why you called it a day in these days."

"But I just don't want to talk about it anymore, Ronald," she exploded.

"Fine," he snapped and walked through the room fastly.

"Wait," she shot vehemently and Ron turned around in the same vehement way, in his eyes she could now read so much hatred… "Why… why are you treating me like that?" she gasped and didn't even try to cover all the pain in her voice now.

"You know what? It's all just your fault," he hissed, "to let me just like that, without any explanation, that's… that's unforgettable!"

"I thought you wanted us to stay at least friends," she sobbed.

"I did-I mean, I do. But just… any other time. I still like you too much to be just your friend right now."  
Rage dropped down again and Ron tried to suppress the tremble of his hands. Then he turned around and walked out of the room. Hermione began to sob even more and ran away to her dormitory.  
Harry, still sitting in the armchair, took a breath and hugged Ginny, who sat down next to him.  
"Love between two best friends usually sucks, darling."

* * *

Hermione quietly sobbed into her pillow. Why was he teasing her so much? Like it wasn't enough how she'd been feeling… The amount of pain in his eyes made her suffer so much… But she simply couldn't have told him! She could not just say that she hadn't love him anymore. She started to cry again.  
Ron changed so much after the Final battle… And, paradoxically, it was fault of everybody else, except him! After Fred's death everybody cared about George the most, which looked like a nervous wreck. He didn't eat, almost didn't sleep; became a living dead. After a month his psychics became to look a little better, but nobody occurred that the youngest son could suffer the most by their lost. His teasing stopped, smiles flew away and only endless immersion stayed. Before Hermione got chance to make it right, it was too late.  
She didn't know how long she'd been crying. She let her tears fall down, until her body calmed down and indulged her in hours of refreshing, dreamless sleep.

She woke up right before the dinner. When she walked in the Great hall and took her usual seat between Ron and Harry, she felt quite unsure. Her stomach painfully shrunk and she felt like she was never going to eat again.

"Want some potatoes, 'Mione?" Harry offered her a helping hand and tried to break through the awkward silence between them. God, how he hated these situations!

"That would be nice, Harry, thanks," she tried even a smile, but her mimic muscles were so painful from all that cry that it happened to look like a very unidentifiable grin.  
After some time they heard the swish of owls' wings and in front of Harry and some others fell the evening publication of the Prophet. Harry opened it and took a few gasps. Then he went red as a beetroot. "This… THIS... is not normal…" He threw the newspaper in front of Ron and Hermione and they looked at each other, with no regard for prejudice from the last few hours, with horror.

On the front page was a photo of the two of them, evidently taken during their today's fight and under it was a headline: UNCONTROLLABLE PASSION AND CRUEL CRY!  
When Hermione shook off first wave of shock, suddenly it came, right out of blue! That BEETLE!  
She sharply shot from the table just with a small hiss "I got it!" Harry and Ron ran after her without hesitation and frantically dashing they followed her right to the Common room. Ron was gasping for breath and held his side in which it painfully stung, Harry had hardly any lungs left, but at least he managed to point out: "Herm…what ar-"

"Shh," hissed Hermione and sneaked about the room in complete silence like a cat after a mouse. Almost like she lurked for something. Suddenly she jumped quickly and when she straightened again, she held a little corked jar in her hand.  
"I've got you, you journalistic beast!"


	8. The Triumph

**A/N: **_I wish I had more time to write. Is there any wizard here so he could borrow me his timeturner, please?_  
_R&R, guys, you'll make my day! :)****_

Thanks to Calypsopotter for her betareading; my dear, I appreciate that you do this for me, especially when I know you're having a tough time now.  


* * *

**8. The Triumph**

Severus closed the newspaper and almost maliciously smirked; sitting at his place in the Great hall, a cup of black coffee in front of him. He sipped a bit and then returned to the headline on the first page. This was Miss Granger's masterpiece, indeed!

Obviously he wasn't the only one who was amused with today's print of The Daily Prophet. While students were consecutively coming to the breakfast and opening their mails, sudden explosions of laughter echoed through the whole space. There was no wonder, the photo on the first page was really impressive. Under the title "CHECKMATE, MISS SKEETER", Hermione was standing, victoriously holding some cockroach-like beetle with a head of Rita Skeeter! And Rita's expression… He was a hundred per cent sure that today was the day of triumph for everybody that Rita had ever attacked.

"Good morning, Severus. In a good mood today, am I right?" a voice of Professor McGonagall interrupted him.

"Oh, morning, Minerva," he answered without his usual shot of irony, "today's newspaper is really interesting," he even added in a conversational tone.

"Oh yes, I've already had the opportunity to read about Miss Granger's triumph. Very unpleasant situation for Miss Skeeter, don't you think?" she asked and he couldn't miss the sarcasm she filled her voice with. He couldn't help himself but smirk under his breath. It looked like he wasn't the only one from the professor's group whose privacy had ever been attacked by that lousy journalist…

Under the photo, the Prophet attached the letter from Hermione, where she'd emphasized disastrous impact on Miss Skeeter, if she hadn't stopped with her nasty sniffing, suitable maximally for a tabloid press, and hadn't started with serious newspaper articles. It was needed to point out that a memory-confusing curse and a compulsory trip to a vampire nest were just a part of this very sharp letter. He grinned again. The idea of Miss Granger, physically threatening to somebody, was more than smile-evoking. Even though she hadn't been that little vulnerable girl anymore, she became strong and confident person.

As if for confirmation of his thoughts, she just walked in the hall and was immediately surrounded with congratulations and also an earsplitting applause from all sides. Widely smiling she took her usual place. Like during that time in his office, he suddenly felt a wave of her magic appearing and touching him, he could feel the sudden chill on his spine. With uncertain conviction that his intention was right, he started fully focusing on her magic and then, when he felt he was close enough, he slightly touched her mind. He immediately felt her euphoria and joy from the satisfaction. Then he hesitated and sent a thought towards her.  
_Well done.  
_She jerked herself as the thought appeared in her mind. She seemed confused for a while, then looked around and in the end her examining look found _him_. He slightly nod his head to support her assumption and also to express his approval, and to his big surprise she smiled back at him and then without any sign of excitement employed herself with her breakfast again.

He suddenly felt such a strong impulse to smile, too, that the thought almost scared him. _For Merlin's beard… _He put his head into his hands.  
_Are you changing into a doughface, Severus…?_

* * *

She had such a great feeling this morning. The article in the newspapers had an amazing success she hadn't even expected, she'd just wanted to get rid of that annoying bug and that was what she actually achieved. That was a definitive end of Skeeter! Actually, nobody knew about her "private" conversation with Rita, who apparently didn't like the imagination of a fat beetle, simply "accidentally" squelched on a boot, very much. She would never forget Rita's torn face! … And then there was the thing with the Potion Professor.  
It seemed to be so unbelievable that he had paid her a compliment.

"What are you going to do today, 'Mione?" Ron asked curiously. Yesterday's incident had a good impact on him, their mutual anger dropped down and Ron was opened again, as usual.  
Hermione looked at the ceiling to find out the outside conditions of the day. It looked like it was going to be a beautiful day. Few degrees upon zero, at least a meter of snow and… a lot of homework.  
For all that two playful sparkles appeared in her eyes.

"What would you say to some huge winter rejoicings today?" she winked conspiratorially at Harry and Ron. Those two just looked at each other with disbelief.

* * *

"Ouch! Wait a minute, I'll take revenge for that," shouted Harry, who had been hit by Ron's snowball right into the forehead. Ron just chuckled and prepared another munition, while he was shot down by one of Hermione's snowballs, made up by a spell. When he rose from the ground and spat out all the snow from his mouth, with a combative shout, he ran after Hermione.

"You beastie! You'll pay for that," he bent after laughing Hermione, which was actually constantly escaping.  
The battle that burst out after was more than long. Later Neville, Ginny and Loony joined them, and when they finally agreed on definite peace, they all tiredly fell down to the snow.

"Hermione," Harry suddenly spoke, "how come you've actually decided to prefer the winter weather instead of the preparation for NEWTs?" he asked and there was a bit of maliciousness in his voice.

"Harry Potter, I'm outside with my friends, because I feel great in their company! I'm in amazing mood, it's a beautiful January weather and YOU want to lecture me about NEWTs?" she cried out in amusement and before he could realize something, he had another snowball in his face.  
The battle started again…

* * *

He saw them through the window when he was climbing to the Astronomy tower. He used to go there very unwillingly, especially since that fatal incident at the end of the year before last. He still felt that painful feeling of guilt, despite all the agreements they had set with Albus!  
So if there wasn't for the fact that Vector supposedly had some interesting goods for him, he would avoid this part of the castle widely.

They were laughing and fooling around in snow. _How pathetic,_ he sneered. He would have vomited from their openly displayed feelings, so obviously exhibited to anybody, they were too much vulnerable like that. Besides, it was a part of their Gryffindor character and he, as a pure Slytherin, was used to close his feelings under the surface. He grinned contentedly. Now he felt like the old good professor Snape. No feelings and a stone mask instead of the face.

He climbed right in front of the professor's cabinet, knocked and entered without waiting. He knew that Septima Vector didn't care about the politeness. He was right.

"I'm waiting for you, Severus," a little bit cracky voice echoed from the armchair turned towards the flames in the fireplace. He went right to the point.

"What do you got for me, Septima?"

"Straight to the point, as usually," she sighed, "won't you sit down?"  
Severus rubbed the base of his nose. He knew in advance how this was going to continue. He'd take a seat, they'd help themselves to a few glasses and in the morning he'd have to quietly disappear from her bed. His occasional mistress turned to face him and raise eyebrows. He took a deep breath.  
"Okay, then."  
According to the secretive mood of Vector he assumed that today she'd had some especially precious goods – and that made him to agree.

Actually, he had to admit even to himself that it was profitable for both sides. It was a trade. Something in return for something. Sex in return for top-class materials. With a sigh he seated down to the prepared armchair. "Well, what is it that you have this time for me?"


End file.
